After 8 years of raising chickens I decided a couple weeks ago to take a break. Seeing my empty coup is bittersweet. I’m glad a friend was able to take the few chickens I had, along with some supplies, but I miss the contented sounds of my hens. There’s no more excited clucks or purrs (yes, chickens do have a purring sound). No more watching them happily scratching and hearing them gabbing about life. While I now get my eggs from the very friend who gladly made room for my hens on her farm, it’s quiet.

I don’t need to worry about frozen water or buying feed/supplements anymore, I don’t need to gather and wash eggs, and I don’t have to make repairs on the coup and fence. Eight years of watching, learning, and studying to make sure my chickens were getting the best care possible has come to an end.

The quiet is a reminder of how important it is to enjoy every aspect and moment of life. The quiet signifies a new chapter that I have yet to write. The quiet is what I needed in order to hear the whispers of Jesus nudging me forward and not looking back.